The Busty Argonian Barmaid
by Shadowfang3000
Summary: "The knights were no more, and the heroes were dead." - Local floods in Whiterun bring a duo of adventurers to rest in the Bannered Mare. Conversation shifts from banter to bitterness as the two spot a potential dame - a young, innocent and rather busty Argonian maid. Someone had to have her, and all bets were off. (Warning: Entirely OC cast!)


(A/N): Well ain't this a peculiar sight? A fic that isn't League of Legends, _and _isn't romance!

Anywho, for quite some time in my life I was rather critical of the Elder Scrolls series. Maybe it was because of my obsession with Fallout, but when Skyrim initially came out I sided with the hipster crowd and said that it was over-rated.

... It is over-rated, but that doesn't mean it's not a fantastic and fun game!

I've started two primary stories for my Dragonborn using my own TES RP characters - a half-Redguard, half-Imperial blacksmith called "Stradlater" who was kicked out from Hammerfell and forced to live in Skyrim, and an Argonian magician by the name of "Silent-He-Wonders", who quickly proved to be quite the opposite of his birth name!

This fic is pretty much just a little bit of banter between the two, and how the polar opposites interact when they're not fighting elves together. This is treading new ground for me, so try not to get too grumpy about any continuity mistakes or contradictions to the lore: I don't know everything about Elder Scrolls! xD

WARNING: Spelling errors, some bad language, pretty much an entirely OC cast, butchery of canon, and some perverted language! Oh, and Argonian racism... Bloody lizards...

**The Busty Argonian Barmaid**

"Whose was the ale?" the Argonian hissed, his spear-like tongue stabbing at the humid air to taste its staleness. The _Bannered Mare_ wasn't usually the most packed tavern in Whiterun, what with the _Drunken Huntsman_ being much more convenient for visiting mercenaries and cutthroats. However, with torrential downpours practically flooding the city streets recently many had huddled for shelter and warmth under its thatched roof. The Argonian planted two foaming tankards onto a cheap table, shaking a scarred man from his slumber. "Whose was the ale?" he repeated, wondering if his colleague had even heard him over the idle chatter of Nordic drunks and rowdy Imperials.

"Yours." he muttered, rubbing his sleep-deprived eyes with all the care and compassion of a butcher towards a leg of lamb. While not the biggest of men around, he certainly towered over your average Nord; dents in his collar-bone and shadowed flesh acting as tell-tale signs for the sort who lumbered armour around for a living. He frowned as the Argonian took a seat opposite of him, their corner table generally obscured from observing eyes. "_You're_ the one who drinks."

"We _both_ drink. If we don't drink, we _die_." the strange reptilian pointed out, clasping onto a tankard with both of his scaled hands. He gazed into the allure of the bubbling froth, captivated by its purest white. "I know you're used to taking blunt trauma to the skull, but do keep up _Redguard_."

The Redguard froze mid-sip, his lips pursed against the cracked rim of his flagon. "... I'm not going to _point_ it out. Last time I did that, you got us _kicked _out." he growled dismissively, eying his companion curiously. He'd never been one to trust mages, yet he'd proven himself _competent_ at least. "So how much did it come 'round to?" he asked, reaching for his trouser leg.

"The repair bill that one time?" the Argonian magician questioned, tapping his vicious teeth in thought. He rolled his tongue for a moment, resembling a crocodile licking his absent lips. Suddenly his eyes snapped into a glare, scanning the Redguard with an appraiser's talent. "Oh I see, you think just because I'm an Argonian I know the cost of everything? I'll have you know that's _highly _rac-"

"The _drinks_, you buffoon." he grumbled, tugging out a coin purse from his belt and tossing it onto the table with a dull thump. Unfastening the pouch he counted some coins, rolling them across the table into the Argonian's awaiting claws. "Go half, I'm feeling generous." he offered, gaining an approving nod from the humanoid once he'd reached his golden number.

_Knowing him, he'd given 150% over._

"Cheers, my... Acquaintance?" the Argonian paused, pocketing his share of septims and raising his drink in salutations. An absent drop of ale dripped onto his robe as he stared at the Redguard curiously; a stare he returned with contempt. "Or is that too personal for you?"

The Redguard replied simply: "Zip it and get drinking."

"You know my language, ah?" the magician smiled, before promptly taking a heaved gulp of his generously sized tankard of 400% proof ale. He coughed and sputtered, prompting a hearty chuckle from the more disciplined Redguard. He snarled, raising a hand to pacify him. "_Gaahhh_... Ugh... You... You got us rooms, right?"

The warrior frowned, placing his drink back down onto the chipped table. Someone must've had a game of pinfinger on it decades ago, for the crumbling wood was covered with bumps and indentations. After a moment he smiled _very _sheepishly, as if he'd been caught with his trousers down in a sparsely populated stable. "... I _could_ get us rooms..."

"You _idiot_..." the magician spat, slapping his snout loudly. He rubbed his face out of comfort, no doubt tending the wound he'd probably just inflicted upon himself. "Knowing our luck, the entire damned place'll be out of beds."

His companion nodded, grumbling in agreement. "Can't go to the Huntsman either. They've got _tents _at the moment, and I'm not sleeping under one of those things with _you_ again after that last time."

Actions tend to speak louder than words, and the predatory glare the Argonian flashed him managed to steal his tongue for a moment. The reptilian smiled after a tense pause, tapping the table with the tips of his talons. "_Relax_, my colleague." he reassured, trying to glance over his shoulder and pierce through the bustling crowd. "I'll use the best magic around - a _smooth_ tongue." he said sagely.

That got the Redguard's attention, who scanned him in mild discomfort. "... I'm _pretty_ sure that's illegal around here."

"_Always_ with the perverse thoughts!" the Argonian chuckled forcefully, waving a claw in the air with trained grace to try and grab someone's attention. It was the sort of thing Winterhold grads like him seemed to be masters at, what with spending 90% of their days locked in a classroom asking questions amongst hundreds of other students doing the exact same thing. He smirked at the Redguard - or grimaced, it was rather hard to tell. "Just leave the talking to _me_, eh big guy?"

"Of course." the "_Big Guy_" muttered, sipping idly from his cup. Amidst the wall of rusted helmets and greasy Nordic plats that circled the main counter, the head barmaid noticed the Argonian's hand and gestured for him to wait. He nodded like a parent trying to motivate their child to stand, before turning back to his drink wordlessly. "_Big Guy_" blinked in confusion. "... Was _that_ it?"

"Give 'er some time." he replied.

_And so, he gave 'er some time._

The big issue there was that "some time" was a rather vague measurement, widely open to interpretation in accordance to the situation and matter at hand. He'd assumed that "some time" would be between four or maybe even seven minutes, but it certainly took a lot longer than that for service to finally catch up. Either the _Bannered Mare_ was at its full capacity and struggling to cope, its staff had less of a concept of time than your basic Imperial construction team, or in the worst case scenario _both_.

Eventually a young Barmaid struggled to burst through the wall of muscle and fat that encircled the tavern counter, resembling an explorer emerging from the undergrowth to find civilisation after years of seclusion. The girl sighed in exasperation, before navigating the labyrinth of tables and finally reaching theirs with barely any breath to spare.

"Hello! What ca- Oh!" she paused mid-way through her well practiced introduction to yelp in surprise, her cumbersome and swaying tail knocking the Redguard's drink to the floor with a chaotic splash.

_Her long, thick, scaly, tail._

_She was an Argonian._

She was quick to fall into an apologetic mess, hopping to her knees and fishing through her pockets for a rag to clean the mess with. "I'm sorry! So sorry, I-"

"Forget it, you can sort it out later." the Redguard reassured, leaning over to pluck his flagon from the musty cobblestone. She pouted with uncertainty and innocence, but eventually nodded in agreement and wobbled to her feet. The mage adjacent to him smirked, putting on his best approximation of a seductive face.

_No doubt based on Dwemer architecture._

"Why hello there, my dear." he whispered, trying to give his voice a deep and hoarse tone. His tongue wiggled between his lips, an idle hiss mimicking a purr of lust. "That was rather _naughty_ of you, wasn't it?"

The Argonian girl looked absolutely terrified, glancing between her two patrons as if searching for a response. Staring at the Redguard's rather uninterested expression, her eyes watered hopelessly. "I-I didn't mean to..."

"Of course, I'm just being _playful_ is all." the magician chuckled, straightening in his seat to try and appear taller - a challenging task, what with his company. His eyes glinted with mischief, his fingers clicking loudly at the man adjacent to him; a master to their dog. "We'd like to rent a room for the night, and we were wondering if you had any to offer to a brave and noble _arch-mage_ and his... Butler...?"

Her eyes lit up in joy, her trembling frame freezing at the joints - a direct contrast to the irritated grumble of the Redguard. "An _archmage_? In _Whiterun_? It's an _honour_!" she nodded enthusiastically, bowing her head down in acceptance of his deception. When she finally felt that she'd been bent over long enough, she snapped back to attention and consulted a hastily scribbled note. "Ummm... W-We do have rooms to spare, yes... One bed?"

The Redguard sputtered on what was left of his flagon, hacking and coughing for a moment before wiping his lips with the ragged sleeve of his tunic. In contrast the Argonian's reaction was much less dramatic - an irritated flinch, as if he was holding back the urge to throttle something or burn some orphanages. He smiled warmly, maintaining his facade. "... You aren't insinuating what I _think_ you are, madam?"

After a moment the barmaid realised what she'd just suggested, and promptly reverted back to bowing and repeating apologies at speeds otherwise unheard of across the whole of Tamriel. "A-Ah! Two, of course, _two_!" she corrected herself, trying to calm herself down. Whatever her tactic was it certainly worked; externally at the very least. "One room... Two beds, for Mr...?"

"The _honourable_ and _courageous_ Silent-He-Wonders, my glimmering pearl!" the mage announced, shouting his bizarre name as if he was a resident celebrity. He didn't get the chorus of applause that he expected, but he did get an odd look from a group of thugs at the other end of the tavern. Sinking back into his seat, he pouted. "... And the _semi-decent_ Stradlater." the Argonian dropped, prompting the named Redguard to raise an eyebrow.

The barmaid quickly began to put their names onto the note, no doubt having trouble fitting them across the small parchment of discarded paper. "There..." she nodded approvingly, fishing into the pocket of her uniform. After a moment she plucked out a rusted keychain, which she fumbled through clumsily before tearing out their key and placing it on the table. "... And _here_, the key! Now, I must get-"

Wonders tapped the table loudly, just barely catching her from her hasty retreat. "Hold on a moment, you've forgotten something." he said, prompting her to turn back around. She tugged at the hem of her dress, glancing at the magician obediently."... What is _your_ name, oh star-child?"

Her cheeks flushed a vibrant red, her hands resting against her snout in embarrassment. "_My_ name?" she shook her head, stuttering in genuine confusion as to why someone as _powerful_ as him was interested in knowing her name. "B-But milord, I'm just a lowly barmaid..."

"Come on, no need to be _coy_!" he encouraged, ignoring her discomfort and maintaining his flirtiness. He leant forward in his chair to close the gap somewhat, prompting her to reel back. Sparing a glance at their company, he winked conspiratorially. "One _Argonian_ to another, eh?"

The barmaid nodded, gulping silently. After an awkward moment she mumbled quietly, barely being audible above the buzz of the tavern. "... Soft-Her-Scales..."

"Soft-Her-Scales?" he repeated, having not heard her clearly. She nodded, before backing away with a bow. He continued his poetry as she returned to work, leaving Stradlater to listen to his plight. "My, Soft-Her-Voice, Soft-Her-Features, Soft-Her-_Heart_! Thank you kindly!"

The warrior sighed, leaning forward and slapping the table to tear him from his trance-like state. "She can't hear you, she's back at the bar." he muttered, sinking back into his seat to assess the damage she'd caused him. "Mind you, I think she's the _only _person who can't hear you."

"Did you _see _the size of them?" Wonders groaned, taking a deep breath. He hovered his daggered hands over his bony chest, whistling to himself in surprise. "By the almighty Hist..." the Argonian sighed, prompting Stradlater to grit his teeth in disgust.

"Look at her _claws_ you boob." he pointed out, gesturing across the bar to her as she tended another customer. He nodded his head towards the young girl's thin, shortened ebon talons, which gently tapped at the counter-top. "She's _barely_ a woman." he growled, failing to provoke a reaction from the obsessing lizard. "... Oh, stop being such a perverted _freak_."

_That got him._

"Oi!" Wonders spat, breaking his stare as if he was a schoolboy who'd been caught spying on one of the popular girls. He instantly turned back to his flagon, which he glugged furiously in a single, awkward slam. Once he'd finally recovered his eye-sight and Stradlater stopped resembling a rainbow-coloured mudcrab, he spoke once more. "Stop acting like _you_ weren't looking, Redguard!"

Stradlater paused guiltily, hiding behind his tankard. There was nothing left in it, yet he wasn't exactly in the mood to get a refill - he just held it there to look stylish. "... At least I have the common _decency_ of being quiet about it." he flushed, snapping a quick glance over the tavern. The Argonian temptress's name suited her.

_She looked so soft - so gentle._

Her angelic features lit up as she giggled gently, no doubt a reaction to a lame joke from one of her patrons. It was one of the many things a barmaid was taught at the start of their training; to react positively no matter how someone spoke to you. No doubt she'd be getting quite the tip for her services tonight, hell; he'd probably be giving her one, even after that spillage.

It took quite a lot of effort to break him out of his gaze - a slap on the face from Wonders to be exact. The magician beckoned him to lean over, hoping to conduct a more secretive discussion out of ear-shot from any onlookers. "Why's she here?" Wonders asked, the tip of his tongue dangling between his teeth. "Who _is_ she?"

Stradlater shrugged his shoulders, running his finger along the rim of his flagon. "My guess, the replacement for Saadia" he assumed, prompting an approving nod from his colleague. He remembered the woman well - she was very strong, and _very _pretty. The ex-barmaid had approached them for help in escaping a group of Aikh'r bounty hunters a month after they'd arrived in Whiterun. He growled, nudging Wonders aggressively. "You know, after you _sold _her out."

The Argonian shook his head dismissively, having no idea why the Redguard was bringing that up. The choice had netted them quite a surplus in septims, and besides - Saadia was ruder to him than most _Thalmor_ were, which was quite an achievement when the Aldmeri Dominion practically wanted his head on a platter. "She was playing you like a _lute_, you buffoon!" he grumbled, returning the nudge with equal aggression. The woman's story didn't add up at the time, and Stradlater only believed her because she was a_ woman_. "You know _all_ women are manipulative like that!" he warned the man, prompting him to scoff.

"That's not true." Stradlater mumbled, the faint redness in his cheeks not noticeable atop his namesake red skin. "... Besides, what about your sister?"

"Hey. we agreed we'd never talk about _that_." Wonders warned, pulling back. Stradlater mimicked his action, and the two grabbed for their empty tankards to take a sip of air. "It was a _one-off." _Wonders continued, refusing to recall the moment in question.

Across from them Soft-Her-Scales helped a drunken Nord to his feet, leading him on wobbly legs to his rented room. He'd been rather rowdy throughout the night, yet her presence had seemed to pacify him somewhat as she held him gently. The duo of adventurers sighed in exasperation, resting their chins on their hands in perfect harmony. "_One bed_." Wonders sighed longingly, watching her masterfully sculpted tail as it swayed through the air. He liked good tails on his women, and hers was enough to get his heart thumping overtime - we're talking mantle quality. "... I'm telling you, it's a sign." he grinned, glancing at the far less appetising face of the Redguard. "She _wants _me, bet you."

"Maybe." Stradlater smiled, nodding in agreement and conceding to the point. Glancing over from their table to their sleeping Orc neighbour, he reached over and nicked a couple of his flagons. "Or... She just made a mistake. She _could_ think you're gay."

Wonders scoffed, placing a green-scaled hand against his chest as if he'd been accused of worshipping Talos. "How in_ Oblivion _does someone like _me _come across as gay?" he grumbled, puffing his body out to try and look manly and mature. Stradlater slid one of the foaming tankards across the tabletop into his awaiting talons, prompting him to hiss approvingly. "Thank you, _darling_." he whispered in sudden femininity, winking.

He answered the question without a pause. "You journey with a big Redguard."

The mage paused, his snout hanging over the bubbling white of his ale. After a moment, he took a nervous and considered sip. "... That ain't enough."

"Well..." Stradlater sighed, examining the tavern with a keen eye. The main bar was finally beginning to empty somewhat, with most of the locals leaving for home and the outsiders stumbling for their rooms in the _Bannered Mare's _expansive loft. The Redguard raised an eyebrow in thought - did the barmaid think _he _was gay too? "... You're a mage who spends months on end cooped up in a college surrounded by old men with wispy beards. Surely you mages get a bit lonely, and start experimenting with altera-"

Wonders slapped his hand over Stradlater's head, prompting a weak and feeble "Ouch" from him. "I get it," he spat, blowing air through his nostrils. "you _sick _man you."

Maybe spending days on end in the hostile wilderness fighting elves and dealing with dragons was getting to the both of them, but admiring the woman's features was a surprisingly lucrative past-time. While the first Dragonborn in centuries had become Thane of Whiterun and been dealing with dragons across the whole of Skyrim, that didn't mean he took care of _all _of them. Stradlater and Wonders had spent days tracking down some of the more elusive fire-breathers - pest control at its finest, as the Argonian had put it - and hadn't received so much as a sweetroll in thanks. The Dragonborn could plaster his name across Skyrim, and they'd remain forgotten by the history books for the deeds they had done.

Going for weeks and weeks on end and seeing the horrors that the Nordic homeland beheld, it was a welcome change to see someone like _her; _an innocent, timid flower that hadn't faltered despite the desperation and tension times had brought Tamriel. Soft-Her-Scales returned from the loft, exchanging "good-night"'s with a passing woman as she made her way up the stairs. Noticing the two men at their tables, she dusted her dress down and made her way towards them in a cutesy half-skip.

_It probably wasn't cutesy, but that's how they saw it._

"A-Are you gentlemen okay?" she asked, tilting her head in curiosity. After a moment her eyes widened, and she bowed - she'd missed her intro. "... Is everything _good_...?"

The Redguard nodded, trying his best to smile warmly. Maybe he'd used his grins too much in sword-fights and brawls, because it looked _far_ less welcoming and _considerably_ more evil - "_Sharky_" would be a fitting word to describe it, and it sent a notable shiver down her spine. Wonders instead chuckled, trying to sound powerful, gentle and wise with a single sound. "I am _fine_, my sweet lady." he cooed, hushing Stradlater with a wave of his hand before he could even let out a vowel. "I would ask you, but such a beauty could _never _be bad!"

She stared at the talons of her toes, rubbing the back of her neck in embarrassment. "Would you..." she said to no one in particular, nervously glancing between the "Arch-Mage" and his butler. "Ummm... Would you two like anything to _eat_?" she offered, swapping weight on her legs. "I had some bread loaves in the oven, an-"

"That would be lovely." Stradlater growled with a manly gravel, catching Wonders before he could speak. The two exchanged a bitter glare, yet were thrown off as Scales offered a heart-warming smile. The two couldn't help but fall into a pacified silence and return her expression, the urge to murder things fading into the windy draught of the tavern. She bowed once more with a lot more grace than before, curtsying like the lady of a manor.

"I'll be back then, sirs!" she giggled, comfort and confidence rising in her voice. Pivoting on her heel she bounced off towards the counter and tended to the oven, her tail raised in happiness as she got to work.

Wonders howled as if he'd just heard the results of a skeever race and he'd struck gold in the quadruple figures, shaking Stradlater's shoulder playfully. "Did you hear that?" he asked, pausing to take in the Redguard's expression of confusion. "A _loaf_?" he offered, prompting no further change. He shook his head yet the Argonian simply couldn't frown - he was far too amused for that. "That's _flirting_ if you ask me, eh?"

Stradlater grumbled irritably, rubbing his furrowed brow with beefy fingers. He knew what he meant by _loaf - _Wonders had forced him to read all three copies of "_The Lusty Argonian Maid" _that he had stored in his satchel wherever he went. The stories were foul, poorly written, and filled with the fantasies of a complete and utter _weirdo._

_That didn't mean he hated them; far from it._

The Redguard took a sip from his dull, lukewarm flagon. The Orc he'd swiped it from had since woken up, yet he still had plenty of tankards left to shovel through - a task he got set on right away, as the froth in his sculpted beard showed. Stradlater set his drink down, noticing the Argonian as he awaited his response. "... _Or_ she's just asking you if you want anything." he pointed out. Wonders rolled his eyes, having hoped he'd say something that'd feed his ego. The larger man yawned, slipping his hands into his pockets and fumbling for any loose change. "That's her _job_, you know. She isn't some lap-dancer from Solitude aiming for a tip." he continued in judgement, sounding like an angry parent teaching their son a story about morals. Weighing some coins in his hand he placed them on the table - a rather large tip, ironically.

Soft-Her-Scales eyed the raising loaves with something akin to a forebear's focus in her jewel-like eyes, her tail swaying absently as she managed her craft. She obviously wasn't one who wanted sub-par produce - she wanted her patrons to get the best she could offer. Wonders admired her work - and a few other things about her - from his seat, hissing lowly in consideration. After a moment he glanced at his daydreaming colleague, before realising what he had to do. Tugging on the collar of his robe he sat up, tending to his clothing to make it look more presentable. "I'm gonna talk to her." he announced, lust making no effort to hide in his eyes. "Wish me luck."

"Hey woah woah!" Stradlater interrupted, raising his hands as the Argonian pulled his chair back with a loud scrape. Wonders briefly considered if it would be worth listening to his acquaintance, yet remained on his feet. The Redguard was _nothing _compared to him, but he did have small bouts of wisdom when the planets aligned. Stradlater got to his feet and circled the table, glancing at the girl and around the room. The _Bannered Mare _had emptied - customers and bartenders alike having gone to bed. Save for the confused Orc to their side who seemed to be drowning in a cup of mead, the duo and the barmaid were the only souls about. He frowned, leaning close to try and mask his voice. "... What happened to women playing us like _lutes?"_

The smug magician simply grinned, cracking his neck and jogging on the spot as if preparing for a journey into territory unknown. "Boy, boy..." he tutted, chuckling dismissively. "... I'd let her _compose_ a piece on _me,_ if you get where I'm coming from."

Stradlater took a moment to grab the Orc by his ponytail and pull him out of the death-trap the rapids that his drink had become, planting his unconscious face onto the maggot-infested wood tabletop with a dull conk. The drunk probably tried to mumble thanks, but it sounded more like a belch and groan combined into one. The Redguard raised his eyebrow, the mage's comment digging at his brain like a chisel at a statue. "... You've been thinking about that line _all_ day, haven't you?"

The Argonian flushed irritably, pulling at his collar to let off some steam. The roaring fire of the oven filled the barmaid's ears, taking her full attention away from the arguing pair. Wonders folded his arms, fuming childishly. "... Shut up, at least I'm _persistent_."

Wonders set off to move again - as did Stradlater, who grabbed for his shoulder and pulled him back. The mage resisted the urge to whimper like a baby at the man's vice-like grip, and turned to face him judgmentally. The Redguard grumbled, closing his eyes in frustration. "She _won't _like you." he spat, shaking his head. "You're not _her_ type!"

The Argonian laughed. Not a screaming guffaw, but rather a smug chuckle. The sort of smug chuckle that all mages and upper-class women seemed to possess, probably training them at mirrors for hours on end so they could use them during conjuration. "Oh, what: _you _are then?" he grinned, tilting his head. "_You?"_

"Well..." the warrior began, looking over to the woman. He'd never really been one to consider romance, what with his life as a warrior and blacksmith. Stradlater had been banished from his Crown family - he was a disgrace, and could never marry. Forging blades and sparring with them were all he had left, and he'd been perfectly comfortable with his sword as his only company. Yet seeing Scales had awoken something in his heart, filling him with desire to know her and befriend her. Innocence was vulnerable rarity in the brutal lands of Skyrim, and such kindness needed guarding - something a Redguard could provide. He tilted his head, staring at the floor in embarrassment. "... Mayb-"

"Oh, for the love of..." Wonders groaned, scratching at his scaled chin. The Redguard covered his mouth, glancing over at the girl with emerging thoughts of love hovering in his mind's eye. It was so childish of the man - it'd completely _ruined _the mage's plans! "I cannot _believe _this!"

Stradlater scowled furiously, pushing the magician back onto his seat. "Just leave her alone you Argonian _bastard!" _he grumbled, settling onto his own chair. He tapped his fingers against the table rapidly, smoke practically rising from his brain.

"Oi, I've explained that to you _twice_ now." Wonders mumbled, hanging back on the insult the Redguard had launched at him. He waggled his talons at him, his face resembling a dragon on the hunt. "Final warning."

The Redguard sighed, his sudden bout of rage simmering down within moments. He hadn't meant to call his companion names, but the Argonian was being unreasonable. "If you want _your_ perverted fantasies, stick to your books." he advised, fishing into his pocket again. Soft-Her-Scales began to hum a joyous tune to herself as she laid out two matching bread loaves, the delicious scent of warm pastry wafting towards them and filling their senses with merriment. Wonders sneakily rose to his feet, prompting Stradlater to speak out calmly - something that made him all the more terrifying. "And if you take another step, I'll rip out your teeth and turn them into piano keys."

Wonders groaned, sinking back to his chair. "Do you just hate me because I'm an _Argonian_?" he suddenly growled, his accusation filled with bitterness. "I _bet_ if I were a Redguard you wouldn't mind, but lookie here!"

"Listen, I don't hate you _because _you're an Argonian." Stradlater responded, sneering with such intensity that the mage could practically see his brain through his nostrils. "I hate you because you never _shut up_ about it!"

"Well, I'm going." Wonders announced, holding his chin up high and rising to his feet. Stradlater mimicked his action, clenching his brawny fists. The Argonian ignored this and turned, taking two steps without losing a single tooth. "Try and stop me." he dared. The warrior simply copied his footsteps, staying close.

This awkward exchange continued as the two closed the distance towards the bar, resembling a pair of limping jesters hobbling over to a throne to appease a grumpy Jarl. Soft-Her-Scales looked up from her work to see the two making their way towards her, the both of them leaning against the counter-top and posing to accentuate their manliness.

"Hi!" Wonders whistled, winking at her suggestively.

"Hi!" Stradlater purred, nodding his head approvingly.

The two exchanged a glare, before turning to her and speaking in unison. "... Hello!"

"H-Hello gentlemen!" she welcomed, muffling a laugh with her gentle fingers. She glanced down at the steaming tray that divided her from the two men, rubbing her hands together enthusiastically. "Good timing, I've... Got your loaves right here."

Wonders grinned, his nostrils flaring hungrily. "Mmm... You certainly are a _queen_ of the craft, my dear." he glanced at her delicate claws, begging to hold them and feel their softness. They were childlike in their shape, yet managed to forge delicious works of art. "Such trained hands. You certainly know your way around _rising loaves_, hmm?"

She shook her head coyly, patting her apron. Stray crumbs bounced off the fabric, rolling away and ducking for cover behind the counter. "I-I was a baker before I came to Whiterun, sir..." she explained, placing a hand over her heart. Stradlater could see its maddening beat - she was still nervous. "I'm not _that_ good though."

"Don't be so hard on yourself." the Redguard reassured. She kept her stare focused on the bread, yet he could see that she was becoming calmer with his words. "They look very good. _Much_ better than I can make."

_Hold on, it was off again._

Soft-Her-Scales hopped on the spot happily, resembling a squeeing fangirl after a close encounter with a world-famous bard. "Hearing that from an _Arch_-Mage's butler!" she sighed airily, bowing her head for the umpteenth time. "I-I'm _honoured_, sir! Thank you!" she paused awkwardly, surveying the counter-top before searching through the baggy pouches of her uniform. "Now I just... Oh, the knife. J-Just a moment, I know I left it here _somewhere_..."

The clumsy barmaid knelt behind the counter, searching through the tangled web of cutlery the draws offered her. Stradlater glanced at Wonders briefly, and could've sworn that he saw the peculiar glow of magic between his clawed fingers. He scowled, nudging the Argonian and whispering lowly. "If you even _think _about using one of those damned Charm spells you got off that street vendor, I swear I'll shove my fist so far down your throat I'll be able to grab that lucky Septim you store in your undergarments."

The mage paused for a moment, only to glow a faint red. He wiggled his derriere briefly in a way that would probably bring every single boy to the yard, letting his rough tongue run across his teeth in thought. "... I don't remember telling you about _that_..."

Before Stradlater could come to a vocal and strangely specific defence for his knowledge of Wonder's banking methods, Soft-Her-Scales emerged from behind the counter with a crumb-coated carving knife on hand. "F-Found it!" she smiled, which they instantly returned. She eyed the two curiously, having not heard their discussion while she was ear-deep in pots and pans. Shrugging her shoulders, she reached over to a loaf and sawed off a reasonable slice. "One for you sir..." she began, shaving off another chunk "... A-And one for you!"

The two pulled up their slices, taking in the smell and texture. Exchanging glares as if to say "Mine's bigger", they both took sizable munches under the curious eyes of the barmaid. The crust was sturdier than expected, but beyond its shield lay a warm and soft interior that satisfied their taste buds to no end. Approving mumbles and nods amidst noisy chews made Scales smile - and _giggle, _by the gods her _giggle._

"_Something_ tells me you two like it..." She nodded, and of course they returned the gesture - of _course_. If they nodded any more enthusiastically they'd be cracking their skulls against the sticky countertop, making it ever the more sticky with their gooey innards. "F-Feel free to have more... If you want more, of course."

"You're too kind, oh Soft-Her-Words!" Wonders cooed, no doubt consulting the dictionary he held within his capable mind. He placed his hand on Stradlater's shoulder in a way that was meant to look friendly, trying to shake him. The powerful Redguard remained entirely still, making the Argonian look somewhat bonkers as he wiggled in place. Pulling his hand away, he continued with surprising composure. "What I'd give for _you _to be my dearest butler instead of _him."_

She resisted the urge to giggle, glancing at Stradlater apologetically. The Redguard simply stared into her eyes for the moment, clutching onto his bread. Scales shared a smile with him, and he promptly choked on a stray crust. "I-I was wondering Sir Silent-He-Wonders..." she began, leaning forward somewhat in curiosity. The mage responded with the same action, no doubt craning over to spy a certain part of her anatomy. "... When I was a girl, I-I wanted to be a magician like you... W-What's it like?"

He laughed dismissively, ignoring the annoyance of his companion. "As an Arch-Mage, I frequent dangerous adventures across the land." he began. He certainly did frequent dangerous adventures - they _both _did. "Life is hard and risky, but I do _love_ a challenge. Perhaps you've heard of my exploits; The Battle of Bleakfalls Barrow?" he noted, the barmaid's eyes gaining a glow that thirsted for knowledge. "What of the Skirmish at the Western Watchtower?"

Soft-Her-Scales tilted her head in genuine enthrallment, resembling a young girl at story time hearing the great stories of the adventurers of old - the sands of Hammerfell to the White Tower of Cyrodil; Fairy-tales lost in the new world, where the knights were no more and heroes were dead. "My, those sound _scary_!" she exclaimed, autonomously leaning closer to the magician to focus.

Stradlater scoffed loudly, grinning at the barmaid as she turned to face him. "_He_ found them scary." he noted, nodding at the Argonian magician. She laughed at this, yet she clearly felt guilty for it.

Wonders chuckled with all the force of a rampaging Thu'um, exchanging glances with the girl. He shook his head, his teeth glistening under the light of the flickering oven. "No I _didn't_." he reassured, much to Stradlater's amusement.

"You hid in a _coffin!" _he pointed out. The giggles and guffaws continued, and promptly so did Wonders' chuckling. It sounded more and more frantic with every laugh, as if he was slowly losing his sanity in such close proximity to a subject of desire. Suddenly he snapped into a frown, glaring at Stradlater without remorse.

"I _wasn't_ hiding, I was finding an angle!" he grumbled, folding his arms defensively. Stradlater simply maintained his grin, shifting the hot-pot of danger towards the Argonian. "We mages fight at a range unlike you foolish swordsmen!" he spat, trying to gain the barmaid's support. She simply glanced between the two, remaining neutral in the exchange.

"You _were_ taking the piss though, be honest." he sighed, shrugging his shoulders. He remembered Bleakfalls Barrow quite clearly - it wasn't a dramatic battle or anything, just a routine clear-out of draugrs that'd been terrorising local hunters. They made easy pickings for his blade, yet the Argonian seemed to have a phobia for the pathetic undead cretins. He laughed again, recalling how Wonders had hopped into an urn and closed the lid. "Any further and you'd have to get a Courier to _mail _your ice-bolts!"

"Oh really? Well, if you're so _heroic_ what about that dragon down in Morthal?" he countered, clenching onto his bread and sending crumbs left and right. Stradlater frowned at the mentioning of the story, rubbing his scarred flesh as a pained memory surfaced. "Remember what it did to _you_?"

"It set me on fire." he mumbled, prompting a gasp from the barmaid. They'd been out scanning and exploring for bandit strongholds to clear out, and hadn't actually expected a dragon to suddenly materialise out of thin air. The damned beast burnt the entire treeline to a crisp before they managed to bring it down, leaving not a splinter of timber for miles on end. "It set me on fire _twice_." he added, wincing.

"Yes it _did_." he nodded in confirmation, not even considering the personal heartache it had caused the Redguard. The Argonian never meant to be insensitive, yet his frantic and ever-thinking mind constantly left out such details. He'd genuinely panicked during their battle, tending to the warrior's wounds with all of the healing magicks he could muster. The scars he bore were a result of Wonder's shoddy restorative ability - and a sign of how the two had saved eachother's lives against insurmountable odds.

"You led it to me though." Stradlater pointed out, shrugging his shoulders. He remembered the battle clear as day. "_And_ you used me as a human shield." he mumbled, tilting his head towards the counter. He'd offered himself to shield the magician during their dire stand against the monstrous dragon that threatened to destroy the whole of Morthal. He'd staved off swooping blows and guarded him against the flames with a firm wall of searing steel as the magician threw element after element at the rampaging beast. At the time he'd forgotten how fragile he was - the defence of Wonders was a priority, and it had paid off well.

Wonders folded his arms, staring into the Redguard's singular working eye with fury in his own pair of crimson jewels. "That's not the _point_, shut up!" he hissed, his tongue dipping out between his teeth. "_Who_ put you out? _Who_?" he repeated, leaning forward to gauge his reaction. Dragon flame is far more stubborn than most magical fire - a fact most people tend to forget when dealing with the beasts. It took minutes on end of dousing him with ice, rolling him in water and patting him down furiously to finally tame the flames. All the while he continued to scream in agony as the glowing orange and amber of his scorched steel plate armour burnt into his shadowed flesh to leave a permanent reminder of the day he'd almost met his demise.

_The day he knew he'd made an undying colleague. _

"You did." he admitted honestly, raising his chin. He slipped his hands into his pockets, puffing out his chest defensively. "_After_ I kicked its head in and gave it facial surgery with a scimitar." he reminded, glaring down at the shorter man. While force can subdue a dragon, it is quite a task to _truly _kill one without Dragonborn to withdraw its soul. With the fear that the felled dragon would rise again, he'd drawn his blade and hacked at the beast's head repeatedly even as his flesh continued to burn to a crisp. It'd taken all of his effort for Wonders to pull him away. Then, and only _then, _could he tend to his wounds.

Silent-He-Wonders sneered, practically snout-to-nose with the Redguard, "Oh, stop trying to look brave you stupid oaf! Pack it in already and just _spill_ what you want to say!" he teased, his hissing lowering to a deeper tone. "Come on, I _dare_ you!" he growled, shoving him weakly.

"After _you_!" Stradlater spat, pushing him back with surprising gentleness. The two grunted at eachother bestially, their glare giving way to a sudden silence as neither party seemed ready to speak. It was curious to consider how all of this started over a single woman, and it was equally as intriguing to consider something else.

_Where in Tamriel had she gone?_

"After _you_, honey-bun." a deep voice grumbled, its owner trying its best to sound sensitive and gentle yet failing miserably. The warrior and the mage span around faster than a toilet trip in the rattlesnake deserts of Hammerfell, only to be met by the image of a Soft-Her-Scales - in the arms of an Orc. A _drunken _Orc. The _same_ drunken Orc that Stradlater had filched his flagons from.

"Shhh, I-I'm still at work dear..." the barmaid whispered, placing a clawed finger on the Orc's dark green lips. He simply tightened his grip, swaying back and forth to comfort the nervous girl. Either that, or the mead was finally getting to him. She tutted maturely, resting her chin on his burly shoulder. "I know you like to keep an eye on me, but... B-be careful with your drinks."

He grinned proudly, his long and sharp teeth practically merging with his nose. "I'm _always_ careful sweet pea, don't worry about me." he purred, his hands sliding downwards and resting on her lower back. "I'll keep the bed _warm_, eh? Hehheh..."

"Y-You're making me _blush_, silly!" she yelped, rubbing the tip of her snout against his neck lovingly. Surprisingly it was the Orc who pulled away - not before giving her a cheeky pat on the bottom, of course. He backed towards the tavern door and pushed it open clumsily, blowing a stray kiss as he departed. Like most lovers he made closing the door take longer than the entire duration of the Oblivion affair. The barmaid waved one more time, rubbing her reddened cheeks in embarrassment - all _four_ of them. "S-Stay safe Gath, I'll be home soon!"

She returned to the bar with renewed haste, searching under the counter nervously. Wonders and Stradlater exchanged confused glances yet remained silent, only for the barmaid to rise up with a satchel on hand. She gasped in surprise, having forgotten her customers entirely.

"... My _husband_..." she mumbled shyly, digging through her satchel to ensure that it was packed properly. Stradlater nodded in understanding - Wonders simply remained frozen, as if paralysed by a stray bolt of alteration magicks. "He's... H-He's the one who took me to Whiterun... He... H-He protects me."

"Does he now?" the Redguard asked, folding his arms. It wasn't too hard to hide the disappointment in his voice, yet his eyes retained a saddened glimmer. He glanced at the mage, noting his reaction. "That's _terrific_, isn't it _Arch-Mage _sir?"

"Oh..." Wonders said. It was less of a spoken word, and more of an idle sound that escaped alongside his sighs of sadness. He'd been serious with his admiration for her - he thought he'd finally found the perfect lady.

"I need to go..." she pouted, too pre-occupied to even notice their frowns. Circling the counter she skipped for the front door, observing the flooded streets of Whiterun. The rain had since died down to a weak drizzle, yet the canals the downpour had created would remain for weeks. "... E-Enjoy your loaves!" she smiled, closing the door behind her.

_And then she was gone._

There was an awkward silence between them, the sort that often came when a duo who'd just had an argument over a woman were left alone at night in a tavern in a flooded city - a surprisingly common predicament in Skyrim. Silent-He-Wonders gritted his spiked teeth, considering the fury he'd just released to simply try and _look_ good to a girl. For the past hour he'd been met with a choice between a colleague and a lover, and he'd taken the most selfish option imaginable. His tongue hung sadly from his mouth, not a single hiss audible as it slowly retracted back between his maw. "... Sorry about that, I..."

Stradlater scowled. "I know, you Argonian Bastard." he grumbled, scratching his skin lazily. Snatching his loaf from the tray he wandered over to their table of flagons, picking up a handful and bringing them over to the counter. He let them clutter onto the table-top - like _Oblivion_ he'd clean them himself, he didn't work here. "Doesn't matter." he sighed in disinterest.

"It _does_." the Argonian muttered, shaking his head. His talons formed balled fists, tension being released as he squeezed them. He couldn't help but go over the day again - Stradlater, a man who'd saved his life _twice _and had been journeying with him for almost a year, or Soft-Her-Scales, a barmaid he'd known for barely an hour who he'd only approached because she looked pretty and innocent. Was he so willing to throw _everything _away for such a pursuit?

_He really did sicken himself sometimes._

"Well..." Stradlater sighed, folding his dark arms and leaning against the bar. The Argonian magician wasn't the only guilty man here - he'd been equally immature, and equally cruel to his companion. "... I won't do something like _that_ again." he promised, smiling warmly. "You won't too, right?"

Wonders shrugged his shoulders ambivalently, smirking in his usual smug manner. "Maybe." he muttered - a response that was met with a glare reserved for mass-murderers. He hung his head in guilt. "... No, I won't approach bar wenches again. _Happy_?"

The Redguard nodded, satisfied with his response. His nod turned into a low chuckle as the magician wandered off, his hands tugging at the hood of his robe. "You _sure_ you aren't gay?"

_He'd let him off._

_Just this once._

"I'm feeling like a mead at the _Drunken Huntsman._" Silent-He-Wonders sighed, nudging the door open. He hated getting himself wet - a strange trait, considering his heritage. Pivoting on his heel he hissed joyfully, beckoning the Redguard with a nod of his head. "Care to join me... _Friend_?"

Stradlater pulled his coat from the back of his chair, throwing the robed garb of his race over his back. Shouldering past the Argonian he stepped out into the spitting rain, shielding the magician from the diagonal spray. He shook his head as Wonders descended the porch and stood in file behind him. "No..." he mumbled, pulling his head-wrappings to cover his mouth. "... I think I prefer _Acquaintance."_

X

_(A/N): Another mess of a fic... Only extremely long and hard to read, huzzah!_

_Quite the fumble, but oh well. Someone might enjoy it ._._

_Also, BROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMANCE - NOTHING GAY ABOUT IT_


End file.
